


Edged Like Fine Wine

by LittleLinor



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: D/s undertones, Domesticity, M/M, Orgasm Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 20:41:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21585025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLinor/pseuds/LittleLinor
Summary: Galo offhandedly mentioned he found something hot, and as usual Lio can't resist the urge to spoil him out of his mind.Although this is a kind of spoiling Galo might be regretting right now.
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 30
Kudos: 179





	Edged Like Fine Wine

**Author's Note:**

> "Quickly" written for a prompt, by which I mean that I started it, stared at it blankly for five days, and then wrote 2/3 of it in one hour.
> 
> My Big liogalo smut fic is still... halfway done... like it has been for two weeks... I'll finish it, I promise...

Galo, contrary to popular belief, has incredible self-control.  
Or rather, Lio finds, he doesn't have good _control_. But he has amazing self- _management_. It's something he's found out early on, when Galo figured out that he was judging too quickly and made himself listen, but actually living with him has made it more and more obvious.  
It's not that Galo doesn't get angry. He does. And yet Galo never takes it out on people, because he knows how to redirect his anger elsewhere, how to pour his frustration into concrete and productive action, how to remove himself from situations when he can't take things anymore without snapping.  
“Even when Kray tortured someone in front of me, I didn't hit him,” he confesses to Lio one day. “I wanted to. I wish I had, honestly. That's like the one time I'd feel better about it. But I'm too used to not doing it.”  
“I thought at least the part where you tried to hit him was real,” Lio says, eyes wide. “I knew you'd never have pulled a gun on him, but hitting him?”  
“You'd think, huh? But no, they even had to make _that_ up.”  
It looks like a paradox, but really isn't. Galo might be a hothead, but he wouldn't have survived in Burning Rescue if he lost his cool that easily.  
He's easy to rile up. But the deep, dark anger that Lio nurtured in his heart so he could find it in itself to let his rage take hostages is alien to him. Because Galo knows better than to let that darkness take hold in his heart. He knows it doesn't actually lead to anything good.  
And that's something that makes Lio feel safe. But also, it makes him feel Not So Safe, because it means that if _he_ lets it take root in him again, he might lash out again when Galo would not.  
It's not a nice thought, and it motivates him to try and be a little more like Galo.  
Of course, his ability to keep himself under control doesn't just apply to anger.  
“You're doing really well,” Lio murmurs, carefully tracing his fingers along Galo's erection.  
It's the second time today already that Lio's teased him, after that heated makeout session when they woke up, and they both know it's not going to be the last, because it's their _day off_ and Galo offhandedly mentioned he found something hot, and as usual Lio can't resist the urge to spoil him out of his mind.  
Although this is a kind of spoiling Galo might be regretting right now.

Galo does surprisingly well at this. Lio wonders if it's because he's been making the most of very little his entire life. He takes pleasure from just being touched, from just being with Lio, from working hard himself, even if he doesn't get to come. It's sweet, and it worries Lio a little, but Galo's bluntness has many good sides, and one of them is that when he says he likes something, he's usually very convincing about it. Sometimes he gets confused about his own feelings and needs to work them out, but in general, he knows what he wants and what he likes, and that makes communicating so much easier for Lio, who's spent so much time burying his own needs because he couldn't afford to not be a leader before he was a person.  
After that second time, Lio leaves him with a kiss and a raging hard-on, and goes to the kitchen to read the newspaper. Galo, barely in his peripheral vision, breathes in and out deeply and lets himself fall down on the bed on his back, staring at the ceiling and willing his body to cool down and relax.  
Five minutes later, he has his trousers back on (if nothing else) and is making Lio a cup of coffee.  
Lio almost wants to reward him on the spot. But it'd spoil their little game, so instead he just drinks his coffee and keeps going.

“Why aren't you actually fucking me,” Galo asks a few hours later as Lio holds his head with one hand and unbuckles his remaining belt with the other.  
“Because you like that too much and I'm not sure you wouldn't come just from it.”  
Galo pouts.  
“I can take it.”  
Lio chuckles.  
“I'll train you for it, if you want. Right now I don't want you to accidentally fail and make yourself sad.”  
Galo sighs and helps him slide his clothes and underwear down his hips.  
“You're always so careful.” He takes Lio's dick in his hand and starts stroking, occasionally moving forward to give him some tongue as well. “So what's that about training?”  
Lio sighs in pleasure. His need isn't even overwhelming, but the casual, domestic way Galo goes for it makes him want to just make him do it more often, regularly, at any moment of the day, whenever the fancy hits him.  
“Simple. I fuck you, and you come when and only when I tell you to. When you can take it for longer, I'll start adding toys to spice it up. And then we'll see how _early_ you can come on command. Two birds with one stone.”  
“Hell _yes_ ,” Galo says, and he goes down on him.

Say what you want about Galo, but as much as he can run his mouth, it's not the only thing he's good at doing with it.

As the afternoon light starts to tint with pink, they settle down for a movie. Lio claims Galo's lap as usual, and although he wants to actually pay attention to what's on the tv—he's missed a lot of pop culture in the years he spent outside society and then leading a small one of his own—it's not hard to play with Galo from that position. He doesn't even need to use his hands, really, although he does sometimes just to have fun with the fact that he _can_. Mostly, though, he just sits on him (which isn't a rare occurrence), and makes sure to press on Just The Right Parts as he does (which is a much rarer occurrence). Galo whimpers a little when he does, and wraps his arms tight around him, not attempting to stop him but just holding on to him. He rests his chin on Lio's shoulder, and sometimes buries his face in it. It's adorable.  
When the movie's done, Lio doesn't free him, just comfortably relaxing on his lap, and Galo doesn't try to make him.  
Really, Lio thinks, Galo Thymos is only disobedient when he thinks people's lives are at stake. It paints their first meeting in a different light.

It's hours later when they finally get into bed (a while after a hot shower that left Galo trembling and slick in more ways than one) that Lio lays back and curls his index finger at Galo in a gesture that doesn't fail to remind them of their first meeting.  
Galo chuckles, climbs onto the bed, and then flops face down next to him, sighing deeply.  
“What, don't you want your reward?” Lio asks, amused.  
“I do, but I'm tiiiired,” he whines. “It's fine… I can wait until tomorrow.”  
Lio laughs, brushes his hair back, and bends down to whisper in his ear.  
“If you get up I'll fuck you like you wanted.”  
He has to shove himself back to avoid getting his chin broken by the speed with which Galo gets back to his knees.  
“I'm up!”  
It's too cute for him to be mad. And, to be fair, he expected it.  
“Get me the lube, then.”  
The good thing with Galo is, he doesn't even need to make him take off his clothes.

“I amend my statement,” Lio tells him half an hour later, thrusting into him while he clings to the sheets close to his head, “you're holding out pretty well.”  
“I… I said I would… do it… I'll show you—hnnn...”  
Lio grins.  
“Are you sure you want to waste your breath?”  
“I mean… what are you gonna do… fuck me harder?”  
Lio laughs.  
“It's not much of a punishment, is it. Or,” he says, grinding his hips down, “I could stop now.”  
Galo whines at the grinding, then pouts.  
“That's just mean. At… at least finish… yourself.”  
Lio falters. Galo looks up at him in surprise (still flushed and sweaty and panting, his eyes hazy and so, so open, and Lio is weak, so weak), and he looks away for a moment, blushing too.  
“Lio?”  
“… how are you so cute,” he mutters.  
“You keep saying that,” Galo chuckles, like he doesn't quite understand it but will just accept it because It's Lio. “Also you know you like it when I talk.”  
“I like it,” Lio says, bending down and reaching for his nape to pull him up into a short kiss, “when you forget everything except my name.”  
Galo's face heats up even more, but his smile doesn't falter.  
“Yeah? That's not hard to do.”  
“Oh?”  
“You make it easy to forget,” he grins.  
That does it. If he's so eager to please, Lio is going to make him _cry_ it before the night is done.  
“Fine,” he says, kissing him again and then pushing him back down, gripping his legs again, harder. “Hands above your head, Galo. You'll come when and only when I tell you.”  
And Galo, eager, does.

(He sobs Lio's name when he comes, whimpering it into his neck moments later when Lio pulls him close, and Lio doesn't even think he's doing it on purpose.)

**Author's Note:**

> Don't be a tease, leave a comment for your neighborhood writer today :D


End file.
